


A Seemingly Endless Series of Very Small Gestures

by frommybookbook



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 18:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6435472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frommybookbook/pseuds/frommybookbook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When Ana was a girl, her grandmother would sit by the fire and knit. Mittens for Ana, a scarf for her grandfather to wear in the village, a hat for her mother. Her hands moved lightning fast but the movement brought a kind of calm to the room that Ana's never been able to reproduce.</i>
</p><p>Ana's mind wanders as she knits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Seemingly Endless Series of Very Small Gestures

When knitting, it's difficult not think of the life the final product will have once it's finished. When it will be worn, where it will be kept. How it will be loved.

Knit. Knit. Purl.

Ana has made her peace with the fact that she and Edwin won't have children of their own. Some things in life just aren't meant to be.

Purl. Slip. Knit.

When Ana was a girl, her grandmother would sit by the fire and knit. Mittens for Ana, a scarf for her grandfather to wear in the village, a hat for her mother. Her hands moved lightning fast but the movement brought a kind of calm to the room that Ana's never been able to reproduce.

Knit. Knit. Purl.

The soft yellow yarn works up quickly. Yellow, because it works for a boy or a girl, and Ana can picture both. A boy with Chief Sousa's crooked smile and larger than average ears. A girl with Ms. Carter's chestnut curls and zest for life. Children who won't be hers but she'll love all the same.

Purl. Slip. Purl.

Sometimes, when she's focusing on the flashing of her needles and the soft click-click-click they make, the rest of the world falls away. She thinks about Edwin, and the sort of father he might have been: firm but kind, exacting but loving, proper but warm. She thinks of a small house of their own, with a neat lawn and a dog curled up by the fireplace. It doesn't do children well to live in opulence.

Knit. Knit. Damn.

Too much thinking of a life that will never be leads to carelessness and dropped stitches. But no matter, she’ll push those thoughts aside and pick it up on the next round.

Knit. Knit. Purl.

As the impossibly small sweater starts to take shape, she thinks again of the little one who will wear it. Who will grow up surrounded by love and safety. She holds out the tiny garment to inspect her work as Edwin joins her on the sofa.

“For the baby?” he asks as he reaches out to touch the soft fabric.

“Mmm,” comes her distracted reply.

“I suppose this means we’ll be taking Ms. Carter and Chief Sousa up on their offer, then?”

Purl. Slip. Knit.

Ana examines her seam, it's a little off but it'll hold, and no one but her will notice anyway. As with most imperfections, it's most obvious to the creator.

“Of course we will,” she answers her husband with a cluck of her tongue.

Knit. Knit. Purl.

Because, really, it was never a question. Of course they’ll be godparents. She knows family isn't made just of blood, it's made of care and kindness, one stitch at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, this wouldn't be anything more than a random musing in an email if not for [@em2mb](http://archiveofourown.org/users/em2mb). Thanks for being my beta and my enabler.
> 
> I started knitting about a decade ago and have always found it very therapeutic. The title comes from [this essay](http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/facts-and-arguments/a-stitch-in-time/article28223076/) in the _Globe and Mail_.


End file.
